


Lost in Translation

by dealan



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-18
Updated: 2010-11-18
Packaged: 2017-11-04 20:05:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/397706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dealan/pseuds/dealan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Santana and Puck often speak in code. A secret code. A secret code for sex. Too bad Puck doesn't know about it. Well, until he does. It goes about as well as you'd imagine. Spoilers: 2x07, Never Been Kissed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost in Translation

**Author's Note:**

> Note: this was originally written a week after 2x07. We didn't know at the time if Santana was bi or a lesbian, but definitely at the time, I wanted to do something with this friendship.

**Fact: Santana Lopez likes sex.**

No, really, she loves it. She doesn't understand why it's such a big deal for everyone else. Like, don't they realize that there's so much fun to be had? People drool over your body so you get to feel beautiful, you get to have orgasms, which is the best feeling in the world, and as long as you're not stupid like Quinn and you use protection, it's a win-win situation for everyone. She doesn't see a down side to this. Why say no when you can say yes and indulge in a little bit with toys and games and _fun_?

(This of course does not apply to creeps like Jewfro.)

**

In retrospect, it can all be blamed on the fact that Santana hasn't had sex in forever.

**

**Fact: Finding a good sex partner can be a challenge in a cow-town as repressed as Lima, Ohio.**

The thing about sex though? It takes twenty or so times before the sex is _good_ and for that sense of satisfaction to kick in. That's why she prefers experienced partners. She's not like Brittany who is going for a perfect record. It's a respectable goal, but for Santana, it's all about quality over quantity. After her little deviation from her norm by giving Finnocence a spin, there is no way she's going back to virgins ever again. No more fumbling around and shooting their load too early for this girl. She wants partners who know what they are doing so she doesn't have to do all the work.

So despite what people may say about her, that she's a slut or whatever, the fact remains that she won't sleep with _anyone_.

She'd go for older men except they seem to get hung up on the fact that she's still underage. In that respect, the double standard is SO unfair. She knows all about Puck and his cougars. It sucks how it doesn't work both ways, since she'd love to take Hottie Dentist for a spin, because she's pretty sure he's being wasted on the virginal Ms. P.

But, nope. No luck for Santana. For the most part, she is stuck with whomever in high school she can get. Which sucks because finding hot people who aren't virgins and in complete need of training is next to impossible in high school.

**

There are times that Santana hates having high standards. Like right now.

Ever since the duets thing, she feels weird about asking Brittany because she keeps getting this strange sadness in her eyes whenever Santana brings up sex. Santana thinks that maybe she's still being punished for causing Artie to pull out of the competition and Brittany not being able to sing. In retrospect, that was kind of shitty of her to do, especially considering how she and Mercedes didn't wind up winning because it was totally rigged. Santana's been trying to make it up to her since then, getting her to laugh and smile again, but things haven't been quite back to business as usual.

So Brittany is not an option, there's no one here to satisfy her urges, and she's tired of doing a solo act. It's been 15 days, 9 hours, and 5 minutes since Santana has had sex, and it’s killing her. The sex-deprivation is frying her brain. She spent the last hour gluing sequins on backwards, for God's sake.

She cannot be blamed for her reaction when Puck walks into the room, announcing that he wants to talk to her and Brittany.

**

**Fact: Puck is very good at sex.**

Let's be clear. Puck isn't the smartest or nicest person in the world. In fact, he's kind of a douchebag who is destined to be stuck cleaning pools in Lima forever with a bad credit rating and at most, a failing band. Santana knows this. But for now, they're young and there are occasional moments of him being a legit badass, which turns her on more than she'd like to admit.

Also, the boy knows how to move his body and please a woman sexually. That counts for a lot in her book. All that experience that the cougars have given him has basically done all the training work for her.

(And okay, sometimes she has to admit that he can be a decent guy. Sometimes. Usually when he decides to stop being a complete dork with the video games and actually decides he gives a fuck. The occasions are few and far between, but it's there.)

Most importantly though, neither Puck nor Santana is looking for a serious relationship with the other. They tried it once and they were completely terrible as a real couple, because when it comes down to it, he's a sex shark and she's a lizard. They're free agents who really just are in it for sex.

(He's not like Brittany, who is a world of complicated despite being one of the simplest people on earth.

Brittany is...Brittany- generous in bed, incredibly bendy, a great kisser and as free and open about kissing and sex as Santana is. Sex is just sex to her, the way it is to Santana and Puck. But she also has this way of looking at Santana that makes her chest sort of flutter in a way that's unsettling, and Santana's reminded of the fact that Brittany's also her best friend. And it's not like she's in love with her or anything, because all that stuff she does with Brittany that isn't sex, like the cuddling and shit, doesn't count as a romantic relationship. That's just what besties do.

But she does care about Brittany and she's not used to having feelings during sex. So sex with Brittany is complicated.)

Sex with Puck is what it is. Enjoyable. Hot. Simple.

So really, no one can blame her for being just a _little_ bit territorial of the guy. She's finally found someone who fits all her criteria and like hell she's going to let anyone in on that without her say so. Especially since they have enough of a history that they've worked out an unwritten code. And for the record, she really likes their code.

**

The lack of sex has so addled her brain that she actually takes him literally at his word when he says that he doesn't want to go to dinner. The combination of missing out on sex AND Breadstix twice in two weeks is so bad, she's fucking crestfallen when she hears his words.

Then she hears, "if we can't find hotter chicks," and she gets legit, offended. Please. There are no hotter chicks in Lima than her and Brittany. Like they could ever find--

Oh.

_OH._

She catches the glint in his eye, then turns to look at Brittany, who smiles at her like as if to say, "Welcome to the party."

They're playing The Game.

**

**Fact: Their Code is foreplay.**

It's not that it's written down anywhere. They didn't sit out and decide, "Okay, whenever we talk about chickens, it's really just code for, let's have sex." (Because, let's face it. If it were up to Puck, everything would be code for "let's have sex.")

But stick to the same partner for a while and eventually you figure out a system that works for you. What things to say and clues to give to indicate how you want to play it and what kind of night you want this time. What makes their system so much fun is that it's a game they can play wherever they are.

When you hang out with a ton of repressed prudes, it's a little- no, it's a LOT of fun to mess with them and keep them guessing what is about sex and what isn't. And sometimes, Santana likes to get into character waaaaay ahead of the bedroom.

So like, when one starts treating the other like crap in front of other people, it means that that later you want to be punished for being naughty and a spanking is in order later that evening. Maybe also blindfolds. And cuffs. It really depends on the severity of the insult.

Fawning over the stupidest things like a hapless freshman means that later you totally want to be fucked hard like a rockstar. Possibly against the wall. Again, it depends on how vapid you’re being.

It might seem kind of silly, but whatever. Like she said, sex is fun, and if you can't play games once in a while, then what's the point?

**

Immediately Santana shifts into the persona of the rockstar groupie, because damn it's been a while. The prospect of sex in the very near future completely takes over her brain.

She never notices that Artie was also speaking in code.

*

Puck has been laying on the bad boy stuff pretty thick, recounting his days in juvie as if he’s Die Hard, the Transporter, and Jack Bauer all rolled into one. Seeing as how he's been all about me me me and while ignoring Santana, they are in for an interesting night. He must have really missed having sex as much as she did, because he kind of overdoing it, and a tiny part of her wonders how much he's exaggerating and how much of it is real.

(It’s the part of her that she won't admit is glad he was fine in there. Not that she was worried or anything. Or missed him for that matter.)

When he starts going off on waffles, though, she starts to take pause.

Food mentions. Ew. She's not really in the mood to mix food in with the sex tonight. Too fluffy. Time for a subject change.

She's about to say something, when Puck finally gets to the punchline of his story.

"Lego my eggo," he says seriously.

_Oh._

He wants a hand job. She smirks to herself. She can do better than that.

"You should totally be our next President," she says, channeling her best slutty intern to let him know that oral is on the table as well if he wants.

He smirks in response and she has to grin. This is the best game ever.

She catches movement across the table out of the corner of her eye and she has to roll her eyes at how Brittany is wasting her time on Artie.

She hates that Artie has to be here. Puck explained it to her about how he needs Wheels to stay out of juvie, and if it means that they all get to go to Breadstix and she gets sex out of it at the end of the day, then she's willing to tolerate his presence. That doesn't mean she has to like it. So long as he doesn't actually try to date Brittany again, she's fine and going by how shitty he's been treating her so far tonight, she's not terribly worried, but she really needs to clue Brittany in on the fact that Artie isn't playing the game with them.

"All right, guys, let's move. This meal has been comp'ed," Puck says.

Dine and dash? Huh. She can't remember what that might be code for. She racks her brain while Puck talks about not ever paying for food, which is a total lie so he has to be playing a part.

Except, no, he's actually nudging Santana off the seat. He can’t be serious. The utter ridiculousness of it all shocks her into autopilot until Puck starts talking about telling Artie trade secrets, and that, THAT gets her attention.

**

**Fact: The Code is like Fight Club.**

The unwritten rule about this unspoken code is that no one talks about it. Ever.

No one acknowledges it, because part of the game is figuring out when it starts. Brittany hangs out so much with Santana that she knows what the code is too, but aside from her, it's a secret. A secret code for sex. That's the best part. If they only knew what she and Puck were saying, they'd totally freak out. Santana enjoys that. It kinda gets her off, because it is so badass.

Telling other people defeats the whole purpose of having a code in the first place.

**

“What the hell was that all about?” she demands as Puck brushes by them and out to the parking lot.

“Nothing,” he huffs. Santana stops walking, pulling Brittany to a stop with her, and it takes second before Puck realizes that they’re no longer following him. “What?” he says, turning around. “He deserved it. Punk was being ungrateful after all the stuff I told him.”

“You told him the code.” she hisses, crossing her arms angrily.

Puck blinks in confusion. “What code?”

“Santana, I thought we weren't supposed to talk about it out loud.” Brittany whispers worriedly.

“Well, he started it. He told Artie.”

“What code?” he repeats.

“You know, the one for when you and Santana start roleplaying in front of everyone as foreplay,” Brittany answers matter of fact.

Puck looks at her with wide-eyed bewilderment. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Santana searches his face suspiciously to see if perhaps he’s playing dumb to get out of it, but no, it really looks like he’s genuinely confused. It’s as if he doesn't know that— no. No, he can’t possibly…And then it dawns on her, that yes. Yes, he can possibly. Because he’s Puck and he’s as _dumb as fuck_.

“Wait, so all this time, you didn’t know that this was just a game we played? You thought I actually _liked_ being treated that way?” she asks incredulously.

Puck shrugs. “Well, yeah. Every time I'd say stuff like that, the sex would be totally hot. You'd go on and on about how I'm a bad boy and shit.”

“And you never realized that on the nights that you talk shit to me, you always end up getting dominated?”

“I uh...wait, really?” He scratches his neck in thought. “I thought that was just dirty talk.”

Of course he did. Santana closes her eyes in frustration and all the reasons why she dumped in him in the first place come flooding back. She reaches over and slaps the back of his head. Hard.

“I can't believe you thought I would ever want to be treated that way for real. God, no wonder Quinn dumped you for Lady Lips. At least he knows how to treat a woman properly.”

“Shut up,” he says, rubbing his head.

“And worse, that you'd tell Artie that to treat Brittany that way,” she continues with rising anger.

“Whatever I’m just trying to help a cripple get his girl back,” he grumbles.

Santana looks at him like he’s insane. “By telling him to treat her like crap?”

“Well, I kind of deserved it for taking his virginity without asking,” Brittany says, dejectedly.

Santana and Puck whip their heads around in unison.

“What?”

“What?”

“He told me he wanted to get you back because he blew you off.”

“Well, he did, but it was my fault. He said that sex means something to him and that I walked right over that.” Brittany looks at the ground, scuffing the pavement with her feet. “I didn’t mean to. I told him we were going to have sex before it happened, and he didn’t say no. I thought we were just having fun.”

A surge of emotions rushes through Santana as the pieces start to fall into place at an overwhelming pace. Puck seems to think that she likes being treated like crap. And he’s been under that impression for the last two years now. Brittany has been sad not because she didn’t get to sing but because Artie rejected her. And he’s gotten her to think that it’s her fault he gave up his v-card, which is completely ludicrous, because she’s _Brittany_. Santana can’t decide if she’s angry, jealous, annoyed, or shocked at how dumb everyone in her world is being right now. Probably all of the above. Add in the sinking realization that she’s still not going to get any tonight, and it’s all too much. Her head feels like it’s about to explode.

“This is fucking stupid,” she says, pinching the bridge of her nose. “C'mon Brittany. We're going home.”

“Awww, come on, babe. Don't be like this. The night was just getting started.” Puck casually drapes his arm around her, oblivious to the anger rolling off her in waves. “Let's just go back to my place and relax a bit. We can even play that game, if that's how you want it.”

She can’t deal with this right now. This thing with Brittany is serious and needs to be dealt with and the idea that he wants to play games now makes something in her snap.

“You are a moron,” she says, pushing him away forcefully. “You think you're such a badass? Do you realize that Artie saved your ass back there by paying? What would have happened if we had gotten caught? You'd have gone back into juvie like that," she says, snapping her fingers. "Shit like this is exactly why Quinn gave away your baby. You're not responsible enough to take care of yourself let alone a family.”

Brittany’s eyes widen at the insult, but whatever, it’s truth, and Puck knows it, seeing as how he has no response other than to glare angrily at her.

“You're such a bitch, Santana.”

Well, okay and that.

Santana rolls her eyes. “And you're a loser that no one cares about because you're useless. Glee doesn't need you, Quinn doesn't need you, and I don't need you, so go get your sucky sucky somewhere else.”

She turns to Brittany and pulls her away. “Let's go, B,” she says, and they walk away to the sound of Puck kicking the side of his car.

*

Santana drives in silence, although she can feel Brittany’s eyes on her. She tries to ignore it, concentrating on quelling her anger, but too many thoughts crowd her brain and before she knows it, she’s pulling into Brittany’s drive way. She’s run out of time and she’s still at a loss as to what to say.

She kills the engine and turns, opening her mouth to speak, only to be surprised by the feel of Brittany’s hand over hers. She nods silently towards the house before climbing out, and Santana quickly follows her out of the car and into the house.

It’s jarring at first to find the Pierce household so quiet, before she remembers that Brittany’s parents are off at another conference. Santana slips into Brittany’s bedroom while she goes to check on her sister, and but the wait is only a short reprieve as Brittany walks into the room and shuts the door behind her.

Santana swallows the lump in her throat, as the blonde flops onto the bed, face first. She moves from her seat at the edge of the bed and lies next to Brittany, wrapping her arms around her waist and curling behind her.

“Why do boys suck so much?” Brittany mumbles into her pillow after a few minutes.

Santana laughs mirthlessly. “Because they’re dumb,” she replies, pulling Brittany around to face her. She tucks the errant fringe that’s sticking up back into place and traces her fingers along Brittany’s cheek. “I mean it. They are. I don’t know how Puck didn’t realize that I was playing a part for so long, and Artie—“

Brittany’s head ducks down but Santana tilts her chin up and forces Brittany to look into her eyes.

“Don't, B. That moron doesn't deserve you. He made you feel like shit, acting like he got raped or something, when all he could have said was no. And you know, first time sex can be terrible if you’re not with someone who knows what they’re doing. You gave him a gift. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Brittany looks unconvinced, and Santana seriously wants to punch Artie in the face right now. Or throw him off a cliff. Or something, anything to erase that look of guilt on Brittany’s face.

But he isn’t here and Brittany’s still looking like a sad puppy and she can’t stand it. So she does the next best thing.

“I’m sorry,” she blurts out. “I should have just agreed to do a duet with you in the first place.”

Brittany cracks a genuine smile, and for the first time in weeks, it reaches her eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah. Then none of this would have ever happened, and you wouldn’t have been hurt and Artie, well, he still would have been an ass but he—“

As far as interruptions go, Santana really hates getting cut off, but this she welcomes because Brittany’s method of kissing her to shut her up is pretty awesome. Complicated feelings be damned. She’s missed this too much-- the feel of soft lips on her own, the tug of fingers pulling her hair out of her pony tail, hands smoothing up her side.

“Wanna do it instead of duet?” Brittany asks between placing kisses along her jaw.

Santana groans despite the cheesy line. “God, _yes. Finally. PLEASE.”_

**

**Fact: A proper fucking can clear Santana's mind unlike anything else in the world.**

The next day, Santana and Brittany absolutely kill it with the girls. She’d be lying if she didn’t put a little extra oomph into the number, shooting looks at Puck and Artie just to give them a little reminder of what they’re missing thanks to their stupidity, but that’s secondary to the fact that there’s no doubt in her mind that they’ve already won this competition.

And the reason for this, in Santana’s opinion, is sex.

You see, sex is sex. It’s awesome, it’s fun, and a great way to work off those extra calories she’s gained from all the breadsticks she can never seem to resist. But sex after weeks of having nothing but her vibrator to satisfy her needs? Off the charts amazing. Especially with someone as flexible as Brittany. It’s fan-fucking-tastic. So much so that she doesn't even need to try hard to channel her inner rockstar for their performance, it just comes out oozing out of her.

That whole thing with Coach Beiste only proves her point even further. She’s glad someone is taking the boys (and apparently Tina?) to task about how not to act around women, but she does feel their pain. Orgasms have a funny way of clearing her mind and giving her a sense of clarity like nobody’s business, and she means it when she says that the football team would be a lot better if people would just put out. Clearly she isn’t the only one who acts stupid when she doesn’t get some action.

Recent orgasms is also the reason why she’s thinking clearly enough to see that Puck is probably going to do something stupid when she hears about his little breakdown in Figgins’ office. That and the tiny stab of guilt she feels push her to go find him before the day is out.

*

“Hey,” she says, sidling up to his locker.

“Hey.”

An awkward silence settles between them. Shit. She hates apologizing.

“So, I’m sorry—“

“Look, I didn’t mean—“

Santana clears her throat. “You first.”

Puck sighs. “I’ve been acting like such an ass lately. And I don’t think you deserve to be treated badly. I’m sorry. I’m trying to be better. Both of us, me and Artie.”

“Really.”

“Really. Artie’s probably somewhere apologizing to Brittany too.”

Santana stomps down the flare of jealousy at the idea of Artie softening up Brittany. This is a good thing. Accountability is a good thing, and it will do Brittany a world of good to hear it from Artie himself about how much of an ass he was.

“Anyway,” Puck continues, “do me a favor and listen to the song we sing later today in the choir room, okay? Mr. Schue’s making all the guys sing it as an apology to Coach Beiste, but I don’t have anything to apologize to her about. I _do_ have things to apologize for to you, so…”

Santana nods. “Okay. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry for being such a bitch to you the other night. I didn’t mean it when I said no one cares about you. You don’t have to take it out on Mr. Schue and Glee.”

Puck grimaces. “Damn, you heard about that?”

“I think by now, we’ve all heard about that. There's already a techno remix of you yelling ‘None of you care about me’ on loop on youtube.”

“Shit.”

“It's your fault for shouting so loudly,” she says flippantly. “But, going back to the point, I didn't mean what I said last night. I stepped over the line. You can be a good guy. When you get your shit together, I mean.”

Puck chuckles. “Why aren’t you giving me more crap about this?”

“I can be nice,” she says defensively.

“Sure you can,” he snorts. “When you’re getting something out of it. Or after—wait, you got some last night, didn’t you? Who was it?”

“Shut up,” she bites out, punching him in the arm.

“Damn, I need to make sure you stay laid all the time,” he teases.

“Then don’t disappear on me next time, Puckerman.” She frowns as he laughs in response. “No, seriously. I mean it. Don’t go running off or something stupid like that.”

“Why, you’d miss me?”

“Yeah,” she replies in all seriousness.

Puck cocks his head to the side. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She pauses as she lets that sink in. “You’re still a major dork, though,” she adds.

He matches her grin and she decides that just once she’ll let him walk her to her next class.

**

**Fact: Noah Puckerman is still one of Santana's best friends.**

When the boys sing about freeing minds, Santana makes a heart with her hands and Puck follows suit.

It's not quite a secret code, but she's decided that's probably a good thing.

 

_[finis]_

**Author's Note:**

>  **Author’s note** : This started off cracky and then suddenly got angsty in the middle and then schmoopy by the end. I don’t know what happened. Apparently I had more issues with this episode than I thought. Thanks to [](http://lynnearlington.livejournal.com/profile)[**lynnearlington**](http://lynnearlington.livejournal.com/) and [](http://zerodetorres.livejournal.com/profile)[**zerodetorres**](http://zerodetorres.livejournal.com/) for keeping me on point, in character, and typo and grammar proofed.
> 
>  **Disclaimer** : This is a work of fiction - all events and actions are completely made up. Absolutely nothing in this story should be taken as fact. This original work of fan fiction is licensed under a [Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License](http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/3.0/); attribution should include a link to this Livejournal post.


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